


Snow Burial

by CatHeights



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Community: hardtime100, Flash Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:49:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1740254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatHeights/pseuds/CatHeights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the <a href="http://hardtime100.livejournal.com">hardtime100</a> Flashfic Challenge #81: Cold Snap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Burial

**Author's Note:**

> This flash fiction is an episode tag to the Season 3 episode “Legs.” During that episode Alvarez wakes from his suicide attempt. Some of the dialogue toward the end is from that episode.

The streets were empty as the snow fell. Big, fluffy snowflakes coated the tree branches and made them glisten like a winter wonderland. Miguel thought it was beautiful and very peaceful. He strolled with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face.

However, as the snow started to fall faster, the flakes got smaller, making it not only more difficult to see, but also more painful to be out in the storm. The small flakes felt like tiny knives against his skin. The snow was now ankle deep, and it had become fucking freezing. His nose started to run.

Before long the snow was knee deep, and still the damn stuff came down, turning the world into a frozen hell.

It was getting hard to breathe. His snot had long since frozen in his nose. He realized that it was also becoming more difficult to walk. When he looked down, he saw that the snow was waist deep. How much time had gone by?

When the snow reached his chest, Miguel started to panic. His breathing became shallower as the thought occurred to him that he was going to be buried alive in the snow.

"Help," he attempted to cry out, but no sound came out of his mouth. Perhaps his vocal chords were frozen, or maybe he was unable to hear himself above the howl of the wind.

He was now swimming in snow that felt like quicksand. The harder he fought, the more the snow weighed him down. Unbidden a thought came to him – why fight? Surely it would be easier to just lie down.

So Miguel let his mouth fill with snow, surprised by how it warmed him. It was so peaceful beneath the snow. He had been so wrong; he wasn't drowning, but rather had been set free. Why hadn't he just let go along time ago instead of continuing to fight? It had been so pointless.

He closed his eyes and for a short moment in time, he wasn't afraid.

Of course the peace was too good to last, he felt a claw reaching through the snow for him. He tried to move out of reach, but it clamped onto his chest with fierce determination.

"No, motherfucker!" he tried to yell, but for some reason he couldn't hear himself.

He couldn't stop whatever monster was removing him from the safe haven he had so briefly found. Miguel was pulled up through the snow, his nose filling painfully with flakes. With his eyes tightly closed, he continued to fight to remain under, but it was no use, the goddamn monster was too strong.

When he felt his shoulders breaking free of the snow, he stopped fighting. What was the point? Miguel kept his eyes closed at first unwilling to see what nightmare had dragged him up. However, his curiosity grew when he saw a bright light through his eyelids. The light spread warmth throughout his body, and as there seemed to be nothing holding him down, he thought, _what the hell_ , and opened his eyes.

To his relief, he found no monster. When Miguel got to his feet, he saw he was in a seemingly endless corridor filled with a bright light. His heart pounding, he walked toward the light.

He walked for a very long time only stopping when he swore he heard a voice call his name. Only silence greeted him, so he kept walking, but then he was absolutely sure that a voice was calling his name. It was very faint and female, and he was sure he recognized the voice.

The light became blinding, and he hoped he was about to see an angel who would shepherd him through the gates of heaven.

"Miguel," what he hoped might be a female angel said again. Although if she was an angel why did she say his name with a hint of a question in it? And why did the voice sound so familiar? It wasn't like he ever had a visit from an angel before.

"Am I dead? Am I in heaven?" Everything was still shrouded in that light, but the light was starting to fade. He had a bad feeling that he wasn't in heaven, which was soon confirmed by another familiar voice.

"Not quite," Dr. Nathan said.

The light faded, and now he could see that two people were at his bedside – Sister Pete and Dr. Nathan. "You shoulda let me die," he said upon realizing that he was in the fucking Oz infirmary, and that the warmth was from a blanket, which was pulled up to his neck. "Shoulda let me die."

He closed his eyes and refused to speak anymore. Shit, he couldn't even manage to kill himself. What did they say, only the good die young? Well if that was the case he was going to live for fucking ever in a very tiny cell. He'd go absolutely fucking insane.

Miguel started laughing, not because he found it funny, but because it was so terrifying. He laughed until someone finally sedated him and was thankful when he fell into the void of nothingness.  
 


End file.
